tadorna: (Default)
posted by [personal profile] tadorna at 08:19am on 13/04/2014
I drew up a list of some of the people I see on my commute, in order of when I see them:

Beard, shorts, tote bag
Retired Black Widow
Stretched ex-colleague
Pointy boots from the shop who is not Aiden Turner
Jehova's Witnesses (skirts and boots)
300-year-old man on his morning constitutional
Green hair, six pugs
Jehova's Witness (bridge)
His n' Hers duffle coats
Daytime vampire
Jehova's Witness (station)
Cheery station barrier man
Wasp Factory boy
Man with elbow patches
Miserable station barrier lady
Station Approach rough sleeper
Jehova's witness (Norwich)
River hippies
Bored station barrier man
Heavy breather
Is She a Child or Is She an Adult?
Man who really wants 20p

Bonus list of train conductors and tannoy announcers:

Dishy don't-know-what-it-is accent man
Soups, sandwiches, hot bacon rolls
Ghost of a little girl
Lovely Irish lady, no idea what she's saying
All words are now one
Man who speaks like the talking clock
I must read you all the extremely detailed information about everything so you get the chance to hear my beautiful voice for as long as possible
Huge… gaps… between… words… … …haha, you thought I'd finished… but no.
Insanely upbeat woman who sounds like a parody of herself
tadorna: (Default)
posted by [personal profile] tadorna at 08:20am on 13/04/2014
I drew up a list of some of the people I see on my commute, in order of when I see them:

Beard, shorts, tote bag
Retired Black Widow
Stretched ex-colleague
Pointy boots from the shop who is not Aiden Turner
Jehova's Witnesses (skirts and boots)
300-year-old man on his morning constitutional
Green hair, six pugs
Jehova's Witness (bridge)
His n' Hers duffle coats
Daytime vampire
Jehova's Witness (station)
Cheery station barrier man
Wasp Factory boy
Man with elbow patches
Miserable station barrier lady
Station Approach rough sleeper
Jehova's witness (Norwich)
River hippies
Bored station barrier man
Heavy breather
Is She a Child or Is She an Adult?
Man who really wants 20p

Bonus list of train conductors and tannoy announcers:

Dishy don't-know-what-it-is accent man
Soups, sandwiches, hot bacon rolls
Ghost of a little girl
Lovely Irish lady, no idea what she's saying
All words are now one
Man who speaks like the talking clock
I must read you all the extremely detailed information about everything so you get the chance to hear my beautiful voice for as long as possible
Huge… gaps… between… words… … …haha, you thought I'd finished… but no.
Insanely upbeat woman who sounds like a parody of herself
tadorna: (Default)
posted by [personal profile] tadorna at 10:41am on 13/04/2014
(Ours is in October). Anyway, I only read this poem yesterday, despite the fact that it is the very first poem in an anthology I've owned for years.

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Mary Oliver
tadorna: (Default)
posted by [personal profile] tadorna at 10:41am on 13/04/2014
(Ours is in October). Anyway, I only read this poem yesterday, despite the fact that it is the very first poem in an anthology I've owned for years.

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Mary Oliver

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